


Assassins Blood

by Amarin_Nightheart



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 16:59:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3617367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amarin_Nightheart/pseuds/Amarin_Nightheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a Skyrim fanfic that follows the dark brotherhood quest line, and features my OC, Amaranthe. I hope you all enjoy it. This is my first fanfiction and it's still a work in progress, so feedback would be great! Yes, I'm aware that my grammar sucks, but I hope you all like it past that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Assassins Blood

Prologue

It was the 26th of Frostfall. Deekus, an argonian scavenger was counting his treasures and organizing them into separate crates and boxes as he saw fit. It had been an especially good day for him because he had finally found Hela’s Folly a ship that had wrecked five years earlier with no survivors. Meaning that no one had ever returned to collect the precious gemstones that the ship would have transported to the great city of Solitude if it hadn’t been for the captains drinking habits. Deekus smiled to himself as he placed the last of his precious jewels in its assigned box.  
Deekus was not an honest or generous man. He scavenged for himself and no one else. His parents always thought that when he settled down and started a family of his own that he would relearn to care about people. What they failed to accept was that he never had cared.  
Even though his day had gone especially well and his find made him especially proud, Deekus couldn’t help but to feel uncomfortable like he was being watched. He didn’t have any solid reason to believe this. After all he was on a desolate rock that stood half a mile from the mainland. There was also no cause to worry about being harmed on the off hand chance that there was an aggressive person in the area. Because he was very well built and had a strong sword arm. Out of caution he placed his right hand on the hilt of his steel greatsword.  
After about ten minutes a white fox limped out from under a near by snowberry bush. It turned it’s side to Deekus for long enough for him to see a gash in the animals side. The injury was fresh and was still bleeding. “How did you get out here?” asked Deekus. The fox looked at him with a confused, and terrified face then attempted to sprint away. The creature made it to the edge of the small Island before collapsing to the ground. With it’s injury covered in sand that tore the skin further and got stuck inside the wound, it yelped in pain. The fox repeatedly made pathetic attempts to stand back up but eventually gave up, accepting the fact that there was no hope left for survival.  
With calm and quiet footsteps Deekus walked towards the miserable animal. He gently placed a hand on the fox’s neck and to prevent it from biting him, Deekus proceeded to lift the creature from the blood stained ground. and carry it to his tent. Deekus may not have cared much about people but he couldn’t allow animals to suffer. He had been raised by a wood elf as a young boy and had been taught to be compassionate and gentle towards animals.  
He wrapped a piece of cloth around the fox’s muzzle to prevent it from biting him. Then pulled a knife out of his bag and shaved the fur from the area of the fox’s injury. Deekus the poured healing potion over the gash, and covered it with a linen wrap. After watching the argonian curiously for a while, it fell asleep never to see life in his eyes again.  
For the fox was not the only one who had been watching Deekus. A few yards away stood a khajiit whose emerald green eyes glowed with hatred, and mind was set with no desire other than to cause pain to herself and the Horrible world around her. She had black fur that was darker than night itself which helped camouflage her from her victims. She was small even for a Kajiit and was thin but very clearly athletic. She wore dark brotherhood armor that she had very fairly earned from the masters of assassination themselves. She took her hatred for the world to the next level by choosing her line of work and was never going back.  
She drew her favorite weapon from her crimson colored belt, an ebony dagger that she had received from the person that she hated most. The persons name was Astrid, and the khajiit wished to the gods that she had been able to hurt her, and make the last minutes of her life a million times worse than they had been.With the dagger in her hand and anger in her heart she moved closer to her soon to be latest victim.  
Deekus sat in a wooden chair mostly asleep and no longer afraid that he was being stalked. A cruel smile crossed the Khajiit’s face as she moved towards Deekus, approaching him from behind she raised the Black dagger ready to strike. Every one of the hundreds of people she had killed died because they were stupid enough to let their guard down. It was fascinating to her that fear was an emotion that people were taught to be ashamed of, if the world of people was smarter they would train children from a young age to trust their gut and embrace the pain of fear.  
She snuck closer to him until she stood inches away from the now slumbering argonian. Holding her weapon against the mans neck she pierced the point of the knife a small enough amount into his flesh that he had time to awake, and feel warm liquid trickling down his chest. She did not how ever give him long enough to fight back. Before Deekus could so much as catch a glimpse of his attacker, the dagger made a fast and deadly slice across his throat. Every blood vain being snapping apart into two pieces. His flesh rolling ever so slightly downward. As blood sprayed and streamed in every direction around him, instantly drenching his clothing and spattering pools that stained the chair and the ground around him a disgusting shade of red. He made a gargled sound as blood streamed out of his mouth as rapidly as water being poured from a pitcher. he attempted make a sound that would have been a scream if it was not for the fact that he was drowning in his own blood and the knife had cut so deeply into his flesh that his vocal cords had been severed apart. As his body slid from the chair that he was sitting in his neck bent backwards with the weight of his no longer supported skull. Before his head hit the ground, making his throat tear further in half, in a way that resembled a jesters smile. His spinal cord would have been visible if it was not for the all the blood and shredded body tissue that plastered itself to anything it touched. He made his final attempt at a breath which was shallow and consisted of more blood than air, and made blood shoot out through his nostrils. The blood from his final breath splattered across his face. The heat of the liquid quickly left as the freezing ocean wind wiped his lifeless face. The blood that had been running down his face started to freeze which caused an oozing affect that made the red fluid form droplets, some of which resembled tears as they solidified onto his cheeks.  
The fox that Deekus had saved desperately whined and yelped in a vain attempt to save the already dead argonian. The khajiit laughed as she turned to face the desperate fox. “Why do you choose to care about someone? It will only bring you pain you know.” she stated in a voice that was so sincerely curious that it made the fox momentarily stop. Before continuing to try and stop the assassin. The khajiit looked at the argonians body that lay next to her. The blood had began to freeze, attaching the body to the sand.  
Reaching into her sack she grabbed a Nightshade flower and placed it on the mans chest. She then ran the blade of her knife across her hand it easily cut her skin and although the cut wasn't deep it still stung. The khajiit then placed her hand over the argonians face leaving a hand print. She always did this to those that she had been hired to kill, her fellow assassins thought that it was unwise to leave evidence but she preferred that people know that all of these deaths across Skyrim were caused by her.  
She looked at the fox one last time before walking away stating “You will die even if I do let you go so why bother?” The khajiit casually through an iron dagger which hit the fox right in between it’s sad eyes. Blood splattered across the animals face as it collapsed to the ground never to move again. She turned away and walked to the waters edge I hate water! she thought but jumped in anyway.  
The water was cold as an ice wraiths breath, and the salt stung her eyes. Swimming as quickly as should could towards the shore she thought about all the things that made her feel the wonderful illusion of happiness. The list was small and in order of preference was; Killing, skooma, cutting, and alcohol. All though she was pleased with her kill she still felt angry that he died so fast. Although it was slightly entertaining to watch his blood splatter on across the ground. It seemed like with every person that she killed she became even more bored and depressed. The depression would make since if she had a conscience, but all it did was confuse her she didn't feel guilty for murdering people so why did she feel upset? She arrived at the shore to see one of the only things in all of tamriel that she cared about. Standing in front of her was a tall black horse with the eyes of a daedra glowing blood red in the night like demonic torch bugs. The horse proudly raised his head and walked towards his rider.  
The khajiit grabbed the horses mane and swung her leg over it’s back once she felt that she was sitting securely in the dark red saddle that was mounted on the creatures back. The khajiit looked up at the night sky the light of the stars above reflecting off of her green eyes. she pulled the reins and directed the horse to face the seldom used trail and rode towards the small unsheltered city known as Dawnstar to meet her next victim.  
This khajiit was not known for being kind or doing good deeds, but for murdering countless people, and becoming closer than even the great alduin himself to destroying Skyrim. She did not care about her life, but it took a great while longer than most had wanted to end it. She wasn’t strong yet she was the most feared person in all of Tamriel. her tale has never been told from any perspective aside from those who wanted her dead. Her name is Amaranthe, and this is her story…


End file.
